


The Kissing Caper

by Mel_Malone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (but only slightly), Angst, Brotherly Love, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fred Has An Implied Crush on Hermione, Friendship, Ginny Weasley is a Good Friend, Gossipy Hogwarts Professors, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Ron Weasley Bashing, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22058650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_Malone/pseuds/Mel_Malone
Summary: When Ron crosses the line, Hermione finds comfort with Fred... and then she finds an opportunity for revenge.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 65
Kudos: 344





	1. Magic Works

**Author's Note:**

> I found out that Fremione was a thing and my friend thought that it was a ship with really good potential. This is just a short contribution to that ship because I don't know if I'd be able to write a whole story for them. I hope you enjoy.

“Ron, you spoiled everything!” Hermione shouted as she watched Ron and Harry retreat up the stairs, Harry looking concerned and a bit frightened.

As soon as they rounded the corner, her legs gave out, and she sat on the steps. Her eyes stung as tears she knew weren’t worth crying spilled out anyway. She threw off one of her shoes and massaged the aching heel of her foot with a sob.

 _Stupid,_ she thought to herself as she tried to rub the pain away. She was so bloody stupid for thinking she could have one night where she felt special instead of endangered, stressed, or just plain inadequate. Even if she did her hair up, wore some silly little dress, and danced with a handsome guy, the world could never just let her have one night. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she choked back another sob and told herself that she should have known better. She should have lowered her expectations.

Maybe she shouldn’t have even come at all.

“Wotcher, ‘Mione! Did you dance too much, or---”

Hermione glared up at the voice, trying to cover the pain in her eyes with pure anger. She must have failed, or maybe it was already too late. The Weasley twin standing just outside the entrance to the Great Hall stopped short in the middle of his sentence, his mouth agape. The mischief in his eyes faded into concern, and he approached her slowly.

“Are you… are you crying?” he asked when he was standing in front of her. Now that he was closer, she could see the faint scar above his eyebrow that showed her that he was Fred.

Covering her face, she turned her head to the side. “I’m fine. Go back to dancing.”

He stooped down to her level, reaching into his dress robes as he muttered, “You’re very clearly not fine. Was it Krum? Because I swear, if I get my hands on that Bulgarian bon-bon---”

“Can you Weasleys all just _shut up_ about Viktor!” she burst out, feeling heat flood her cheeks again, the same way it had when she was yelling at Ron. Fred flinched at her raised volume, and her anger left as soon as it came. She rubbed her face with a groan. “I’m sorry, Fred. I really am. You want to help, and I’m messing up with yet another person tonight.”

“It’s okay. You’re upset. I get it.” Frowning, he took out the handkerchief he must have been looking for in his robes and held it out to her.

She looked at it skeptically. “I’m not going to end up pulling a dozen other handkerchiefs tied to this one, am I?”

A spark of amusement lit up in his eyes, and he tilted his head as a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “What?”

Hermione found herself smiling a bit at his cluelessness. She shook her head and took the handkerchief, explaining, “Never mind, I guess it’s just a Muggle joke.”

Fred chuckled softly, shaking his head as if to say, _No wonder Dad’s so interested in Muggles - they’re absolutely bizarre._ The handkerchief he’d given her was soft against her skin, and it helped soothe her agitation.

Once she’d dried her eyes and her slight smile started fading, he asked, “So, what did Ron do?”

“I didn’t say anything about Ron,” she replied a bit too fast for her comfort, avoiding Fred’s gaze.

He moved to sit beside her with a laugh that felt devoid of real humor. “Ah, but you did say something about _you Weasleys,_ and I know you’re not talking about Georgie or Ginny. You’re definitely not talking about any of my older brothers. Therefore, what did _Ron_ do?” When she didn’t respond, he bumped her shoulder with his. “Did he say something about Krum?”

Shaking her head, she shoved his handkerchief back into his hands and put her shoe back on so she could stand up. “It’s nothing. I’m okay now.”

“Stop saying that when you’re obviously not,” he scoffed as he got up, and she realized how much taller than her he was. Even with her heels, he towered over her. He exhaled sharply when he saw her hesitation and put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “I know I’m not Ron or Harry, or even Ginny. But I _am_ your friend, and I _do_ want to help you feel better.”

Hermione bit her bottom lip as she thought about it. Both of the twins were infamous tricksters, but George was usually the gentle one of them. Fred tended to be more callous, needing his brother to pull him back. That was one of the ways Hermione had actually learned to discern them when she first met them, so she was surprised that it would be Fred trying to make her feel better. But she supposed that maybe she’d judged him too soon.

“He said that Viktor was only interested in me because I’m friends with Harry,” she admitted with a shattered voice. Her throat started hurting in the torturous way it always did when she was trying to hold back her crying. “That all Viktor wanted was to get an edge in the Tournament. And _that_ was after he’d suggested that the reason Viktor spent time with me in the library was just because he wanted to snog me.”

She covered her mouth before she started sobbing again. But it was too late, the tears were starting to come back. Before she knew it, Fred’s arms were around her and she was trembling with every cry that tore itself from her throat. He rubbed her back until she was done, his fingers warm against the expanse of skin exposed by her dress.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently.

Hermione shook her head, saying against his chest, “It’s not your fault. And I know how he is sometimes. I wouldn’t have minded on any other night, but I wanted tonight to be nice. Ron just--- He---”

Closing her eyes, she buried her face as she lost the ability to speak coherently.

“He made you feel like you weren’t special,” Fred finished for her, surprisingly. He pulled back from the hug and lifted her chin to meet her eyes. “Look, Hermione, my brother is a fourteen-year old boy, which means he’s bound to be an idiot, especially where girls are concerned. But you? You’re brilliant and compassionate. Trust me, an older guy like Viktor has matured enough to see that and appreciate it. I promise, Ron might have been a menace tonight, but he’ll learn better - if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Thank you,” she said under her breath, trying for a smile. “Really. I must look a mess, but at least I feel a little better.”

“Good.” He swiped his thumb across her cheeks to rub away the tear tracks. “And if you happen to think that pulling a prank on Ickle Ronnikins would make you feel even better, Georgie and I will be eager to help.”

Hermione glanced over to the Great Hall. “Speaking of which, where is George? Aren’t you two usually joined at the hip?”

“He’s dancing with Angelina Johnson,” Fred grinned proudly, walking her to the entrance and pointing out his brother. “Finally.”

Confusion took the place of Hermione’s strife, and she asked, “Wait, didn’t _you_ ask Angelina to the Ball?”

With a nervous laugh, he scratched the back of his neck and admitted, “As friends. See, George fancies her, but he’s a bit hesitant when it comes to making the first move. When I heard that the girl I was thinking of asking had already agreed to go with someone else, I decided I’d better prevent the same thing from happening to him. I got Alicia Spinnet in on my little plan, and now he and Angie are twirling the night away.”

When Hermione caught a glimpse of Fred’s beaming smile, her tears were all forgotten, and she was suddenly grinning along. “I think this is the only scheme of yours that I wholeheartedly approve of.”

His bright eyes landed on her. “Oh, come on, you didn’t _absolutely_ love when George and I dropped live bugs on the Slytherin girls?”

“That’s a close second,” she admitted, trying to stop herself from grinning even wider at the memory of Pansy Parkinson’s shrieks. But there was still something that left her usual curiosity unsated. She nudged Fred with her elbow to get his attention again. “So, about that girl you really wanted to go to the Yule Ball with…”

The genuine joy in his eyes gave way to his usual smirk. “Shall I warn you ahead of time that I haven’t even told George about her, or would you ask who she is anyway?”

Her eyes widened at this surprising information, which only set about a new blaze of questions in her head. Why would he mention something in passing to her that he wouldn’t even talk to his brother about? Did he really care that much about making her feel better after Ron’s callousness? And what kind of girl was it that Fred felt he either couldn’t tell George or just didn’t want to?

Pushing those questions to the back of her mind, she said, “I would ask anyway. But you wouldn’t answer, right?”

“See? Told you, you’re brilliant,” he laughed, casually throwing his arm around her shoulders. “Mind if I walk you back to the common room?”

On instinct, her hand flew up to his wrist, about to take his arm off her shoulders the way she always did whenever he and George got a bit too familiar for her liking as they made jokes. But as soon as her fingers met his skin, she reminded herself that he wasn’t being malicious. Her hand relaxed on his forearm, and she rubbed her thumb across the sleeve of his dress robes.

“Actually, I think I’d like that."


	2. Sisterly Approval

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny Weasley knows something's going on between her best friend and her brother, and while it catches her off-guard, she's not-so-secretly completely in support of it.
> 
> {Alternatively titled in my Google Docs as "Okay, but Ginny would definitely ship it."}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you paid attention to the notes in the last chapter, you might have noticed that I wasn't fully certain if this story was going to go beyond the first part. Additionally, if you're reading this, you probably know that I made a decision on that front.

Ginny had suspicions about Fred’s behavior.

Well, she _always_ had suspicions when it came to Fred, but this was different. Too many times this past month she’d looked up from her food while chatting with Hermione and caught him looking away. George seemed surprisingly oblivious to this, talking with him and Lee without a care or concern in the world. Plus, there was the way Fred acted whenever he saw her and Hermione in passing, teasing Hermione with eyes softer than usual. It had happened so many times that she almost confused him for George a couple occasions (since George always had a kinder smile) until she noted the absence of a mole on the side of his neck. He was also always the first to get into Hermione’s personal space whenever he and George saw her. Sure, between the two of them, Fred was always the instigator, but George never twirled Hermione’s hair around his finger the way Fred did as he spoke.

Overall, it was just the small things, little nuances that she wouldn’t have picked up on if she weren’t his sister and Hermione’s friend - meaning she put herself up to both making sure that Fred wasn’t getting into too much trouble and that Hermione was safe. She was surprised no one else saw it, but she figured that her friends and siblings each had someone to ogle this year. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off Cho Chang, George fancied Angelina Johnson, Hermione was trying to figure what she felt for Viktor Krum, and Ron always had food. Even Lee was usually focused on the next prank on the Slytherins for cheating in a Quidditch match. 

But if no one else noticed, and if Fred never acted on it, Ginny thought it really wasn’t much of her business. It was just… interesting.

Then Hermione confessed to Ginny that Viktor asked her to the Yule Ball. Ginny was excited for her, but in the back of her mind, she had a bit of concern for Fred. Maybe he wasn’t planning on asking Hermione, but _still_ \--- if he found out at the Ball, and Ginny was right about the feelings she thought she saw there… 

She didn’t want Fred to go through what she was experiencing with Harry.

So she mentioned it in passing to both of the twins when talking to them about the clothes their mum sent them for the Yule Ball. It was nothing much; she just slipped in, “I have to show Hermione my dress beforehand since I don’t know if Neville and I will see much of her.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Fred asked almost absentmindedly as he opened the box that had been delivered right in front of them during breakfast. He pulled out the dress that laid on top of the dress robes he and George would wear.

“She’s going with Krum, which means she might spend all night hanging out with his Durmstrang friends.” As she took the dress Fred gave her, she noticed the way he stiffened and the corner of his mouth twitched. But that wasn’t conclusive enough proof. She faked a gasp and covered her mouth. “Oh, bloody hell. Would you two mind not mentioning that to anyone? She only told me. Not even Harry and Ron know.”

Fred recovered from his shock and nodded with a smirk. “I’m surprised, little sis. Usually, you’re better at keeping secrets.”

George added, “Should we be concerned about the next prank we pull with your knowledge?”

“I’m excited for her,” she forced herself to say with a grin despite her suspicions, “whereas I normally don’t care for your pranks. So, I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

“Go show her the dress and then put it away quickly,” Fred said after reaching forward to ruffle Ginny’s hair. “Mum said in her letter that she wanted you to put it in your trunk immediately to avoid tears or stains.”

Uh-oh, Ginny said to herself as she walked beside the Gryffindor table to where Hermione sat. Fred _really_ must have fancied Hermione - he was encouraging Ginny to be good.

And then came the Yule Ball, and she could have sworn that Fred and Hermione were standing at the entrance to the Great Hall together during one of the last songs one moment, and then the next, they were gone. She saw it in between times that Neville turned her, so she momentarily thought she’d imagined it. After all, Hermione spent most of the evening with Viktor and seemed to really enjoy herself. Surely, Viktor would have walked her back to the common room.

But when she and Neville were finally ushered into returning to their common room, she found both of them on one of the sofas, fast asleep. Hermione’s head rested on his shoulder, and Fred’s head rested on hers. He looked completely content whilst she looked utterly comfortable with the outer cloak from his dress robes draped over her shoulders. Hermione’s updo was completely undone, and her hair spilled over her jaw and onto Fred. One of her arms was tangled with his, and her other hand was splayed over a small red notebook that Ginny recognized almost instantly. It was one of the notebooks the twins jotted down their prank ideas in, the other half of the matching set probably with George. 

It was then that Ginny realized that for as much as she knew that Hermione was confused about what to think about Viktor, she started to hope that her friend would be charmed by her brother.

She smiled warmly at the sight, while Neville looked utterly confused. He almost spoke before Ginny raised her finger to her lips in warning.

“I’ll explain later,” she whispered, leaning in so he could hear her better. “Thanks for tonight. It was fun.”

Neville provided her with the rare sight of his proud smile. He’d been so nervous before, and this entire night he’d been more relaxed with Ginny defusing any tension she sensed. “Thank you for agreeing to go with me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gave him a quick hug before he went up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. Once his quiet footsteps were out of earshot, she whipped back to the sofa.

“Oh, I wish Colin were here,” she lamented to herself quietly as she folded her hands in front of her mouth. A picture of this moment would be great! 

She took the scene in for a second more before she took a book from its place on the top of a cabinet by the boys’ dorms. With careful, measured precision, she lifted the book up.

Then she let it fall and hit the ground with a thud.

Fred and Hermione jolted up in unison before they turned back to her. While Hermione seemed sleepy and confused, Fred looked somewhat irritated. 

“Oops,” Ginny chirped, biting her lip with feigned shame to be a bit more convincing. “I didn’t realize you guys were here, or I would have been more careful.”

Stretching with a groan, Hermione said, “It’s okay, Gin. We were going to have to go up anyway.”

“Yeah, we should have been more careful,” Fred said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can’t just go around falling asleep in the common room.” They stood up from the couch, and Hermione almost went straight to the girls’ dormitories before Fred cleared his throat awkwardly. She looked back to him with a raised eyebrow, and he pointed to the cloak as he said, “While I certainly won’t be wearing these again, I do have to send that back to my mum.”

“Oh,” Hermione murmured. She took the cloak off and handed it to him with a half-smile. “Thanks. For everything.”

Fred’s eyes were softer than Ginny had ever seen them before as Hermione crossed the common room.“No problem. Think about that offer of mine, though.”

Laughing, Hermione nodded as she took Ginny’s arm to walk with her up to the girls’ dorms. Was she blushing? “I’ll consider it. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Ginny was positive she was grinning like a madwoman as she and Hermione walked up the steps. “So, what's that offer my brother mentioned?”

“Hm?” Hermione practically snapped out of a reverie at Ginny’s voice. “Uh, Fred asked if I’d like to help him in a prank. On Ron.”

“What did Ron do to warrant attention from my brothers?”

Frowning, Hermione let her eyes drift away from Ginny as she admitted, “He said some unkind things about Viktor and I. Fred thought it would help me feel better to ‘get back at him.’”

“What did Ron say and how strong do you want to bet the impact would be if I hexed him?” Ginny immediately asked, concerned for her friend. She knew her brother could sometimes be insensitive. 

“It doesn’t really matter,” Hermione shrugged dismissively. “I’m actually over it now. There’s no reason to let him ruin my night, after all.”

Furrowing her brow, Ginny examined Hermione for any sign of trying to hide her true feelings, but surprisingly, she looked like she was being completely honest. She seemed perfectly at ease, almost like a new woman - quite similar to how exuberant Neville looked after a night of comfortably talking to and dancing with Ginny as friends. Except Hermione had more of a dreamy look in her eyes than one of pride.

To test her newfound suspicions about Hermione’s feelings, Ginny asked, “Daydreaming about Viktor, are you?”

Another laugh escaped Hermione. “No, Viktor and I are just friends, and I like that. I had a good time with him.”

“If it was just a good, friendly time, then why do you look like you might start floating at any second without any magic involved?” Ginny giggled.

Now she was certain Hermione was blushing as she nervously chuckled, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the curious little smile on your face that mirrors the one Ron wears when he sees a plate full of food. Don’t tell me you’re not thinking about a special guy you spent time with tonight.”

Hermione stopped on the steps, turning to Ginny. “I told you, Viktor and I---”

“Sod that, I’m talking about Fred!” Ginny interrupted under her breath, gently hitting Hermione’s shoulder. “You like him!”

“Well, I certainly don’t dislike the brother of my best friends…,” tried Hermione before Ginny crossed her arms with amusement dancing in her eyes. “Look, I’m not going to say I don’t like him.”

“Which means you _do_ like him!”

“Not exactly!” 

At the urgency in her friend’s voice, Ginny finally decided to be serious. “Okay, okay. Explain.”

“You know, at the beginning of the year, I thought Ron and I would… Well. Anyway, then Viktor comes along, and he’s different and a little exciting. I’m really touched that he shows an interest in me, but I don’t like him that way, I just like talking to him. Then Fred comes along while I’m crying and a little conflicted over how I feel, and he smooths it all over. He’s always been here, but I saw him differently tonight. It was…” Hermione’s lips curved into a smile as her eyes sparkled. 

Ginny’s grin returned, and she leaned in to pinch her friend’s arm. “If he’s left you speechless, Hermione, I might take it upon myself to start planning the wedding for you.”

“It’s not quite like that, either, Ginny.”

“But it could be?” Ginny asked, her voice full of hope.

Pursing her lips, Hermione narrowed her eyes as she thought about it. “I think it’s not outside the realm of possibility - but only if he were interested in me.”

Despite the excitement that filled Ginny, she nodded calmly before placing her hand on the door to her year’s dorm room. “I completely understand. Good night, ‘Mione.”

“Night, Gin,” Hermione said with a hug before she continued to her room. 

And of course, when Ginny got into her room, she silently celebrated to herself that tonight was such a success for both her best friends as well as the twins. If only Hermione knew, she thought to herself.

Meanwhile, Hermione was thinking the exact same thing about Ginny.


	3. The Start of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred has secrets to spare, and right now, all the pranks he keeps between him and George pale in comparison to what he's planning with Hermione. And that's not even mentioning what he feels for her...

Fred was usually the chill one between him and his brother, but now he suddenly understood George's nerves. He had to remind himself to keep cool as he walked across the quad with Lee, George, and Angelina to cut through to the Great Hall. It was fine, he told himself. It was perfectly alright.

Except it wasn’t exactly perfectly alright. 

The pocket of his robes felt weighed down by a note from Hermione that she’d asked Angelina to pass along to him. He’d read it three times over before nodding to himself, explaining it away to his friends’ curious eyes. None of them seemed all that convinced, though. Especially once Angelina exposed what the note said.

_About your offer, I’m delighted to say yes._

“I asked if she wanted me to help her practice some of the newer spells she’d been having trouble with in Flitwick’s class,” he’d dismissed as he folded the note up and tucked it away, thankful that years of getting into mischief made him a decent liar (or, at least a quick one).

George was the first to get it, saying, “And of course, little Granger frets ever so terribly if she isn’t perfect. Makes sense, except why were you two talking about Charms of all things last night?”

“Who said it was last night?” asked Fred nonchalantly. 

“Well,” grinned Angelina, “considering that you two were together near the end of the Ball and then all over each other in the common room, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Before Fred could try to cover up the truth about last night, Lee interrupted, “Speaking of which, you really showed Hermione your Mischief Book? That girl is practically Prefect material, and you handed her your entire collection of ideas?”

“I was asking her about an idea I had. Just one. Trust me, I didn’t let her see the others.”

And _that_ was the truth. He’d outlined an entire plan with Hermione the previous night, going over the minutiae of the idea until she fell asleep in the middle of it. When he realized her head sank onto his shoulder and her eyes fluttered closed, he almost wanted to wake her so she could go up to her room and sleep in a proper bed, but she looked so peaceful and pretty that he couldn’t help himself from closing his eyes and resting his head on hers. 

He was letting his thoughts get away with him again, he chided himself as they reached the Great Hall, which had been returned to its usual state. As he sat down with his friends for breakfast, he looked across the Gryffindor table for any sign of Ron or Harry. Wherever they were, Hermione was sure to be eventually. 

Harry was a few feet over, holding his head in one hand while his other hand moved the food on his plate around dejectedly. He frowned as he spoke to Ron, who was enthusiastically scarfing his breakfast down. The sight of his occasional longing glances over to the Ravenclaw table were not missed.

“I reckon if Chang and Diggory keep up their relationship through to next year, Harry will be a useless Seeker for games against their Houses,” Fred muttered to Angelina.

She followed his gaze over to Harry before shaking her head. “That’s just what we need for our last year here.”

Trying to reassure his girlfriend, George said, “He might still be good for Hufflepuff games. Seeing Diggory’s face might just make him determined to get the Snitch faster.”

“Honestly, you three,” Ginny sighed as she sat across from Fred. “I swear, if you only care about Harry’s relationships for their effect on his Quidditch performance, you’re as bad as you complained Oliver Wood was.”

Feigning offense, Angelina rested a hand on her chest lightly. “Ginny! I thought we were friends!”

They couldn’t contain their laughter, and Fred cocked his head back as he grabbed an apple from a nearby platter. His smirk grew when his eyes landed on bushy, dark brown curls hiding sleepy brown eyes. She met his eyes almost instantly, as if either she’d been wanting to seek him out as well, or she just knew he was looking for her. He sincerely hoped it was the former.

Of course, Harry had also noticed Hermione’s entrance, and he sat up as she made her way over to him… but she walked right past him and Ron with merely a quick greeting. Bewilderment filled bright green eyes, but then he glanced over to find a seething Ron, and it looked to Fred like the pieces clicked into place for Harry.

But of course, Harry still wasn’t seeing the whole puzzle.

“Morning, Hermione,” Fred said with a warm smile as she sat next to him.

“Good morning, Fred.” Grinning, her eyes drifted from him across the table. “Good morning, Ginny.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed as she cut into her pancakes, and she said, “Why, someone’s awfully chipper this morning. Most of us had to drag ourselves out of bed.”

Hermione quirked her eyebrow at Ginny as she served herself some food, and Fred recognized that slight change in her expression. Since he and George communicated without words more effectively than most, he understood Hermione’s meaning. _Not now._ In response, Ginny’s grin grew, but she turned her head, signalling that she would certainly take the opportunity to tease her later.

“Well, despite the low moments of last night,” Hermione replied, her eyes decidedly avoiding Ron, “I actually had a lot of fun. Don’t act like _you_ didn’t have a good time, getting in at the absolute last minute.”

“Of course. Neville is an amazing dancer, and I’ll hex anyone who dares to say otherwise.” She grinned at her friend, who sat within earshot and evidently heard what she said if the blush rising to his cheeks were any indication. 

Angelina interjected, “And I was surprised to find out the same about George. I would have thought he only spent the entire dancing lesson making fun of his brother dancing with McGonagall.”

“At a certain point,” Fred admitted, “we just _had_ to start paying attention.”

George explained, “For no other reason than because our dear Transfiguration teacher was actually dancing quite impressively, given the circumstances.”

“Are you referring to her age?” Hermione asked with a fiery look in her eyes like she would protest at the implication that Professor McGonagall was too old to dance amazingly.

Fred looked affronted, and he genuinely was. Despite his jokes and pranks, he had a sincere respect for Professor McGonagall and her classes that caused him and George to choose her class as one of the few O.W.L.s that they passed. “Of course not. We mean her Quidditch injury.”

“When she was a student, she fell in the middle of a game against Slytherin, and the damage was so bad that she stopped playing,” his brother finished for him.

“You hate to hear it,” Lee said, shaking his head sadly. “If only she’d had a Madame Pomfrey back in her day. Speaking of nasty Quidditch injuries, I heard about this one…”

And just like that, with his friends and siblings were distracted by discussions of Quidditch injuries, Fred felt he was safe enough to turn his focus back to Hermione, who had already buried herself in a book. 

“Hey,” he said under his breath to get her attention.

She glanced up and spoke just as softly. “Yeah?”

“I got your note, and my friends got curious. Just so you know, they think I’m helping you practice spells for Charms.”

Her nose scrunched, and she asked, “You’re not letting George in on this one?”

A bit of guilt tugged at Fred at that question. For as long as he’d remembered, he and George had done practically everything together. They complemented each other perfectly. Where Fred was ruthless, George was more thoughtful. They were both clever and creative, but the slight differences in their personalities kept either of them from going too far. The last time they hadn’t worked together, well… 

Fred had a scar above his eyebrow for a reason.

He shrugged in response to Hermione. “Maybe a bit later, when we’re further along with this. Besides, I figure if everyone thinks that for now, it might make it even better when they ‘find out’ what they’re supposed to think later. It’ll be like we were hiding it the entire time because we just didn’t want anyone to know.”

“A lie hiding another lie sounds a bit complicated,” she commented, “but it works as long as you start hinting towards our real plan. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be so believable.”

Grinning, he proudly said, “Why, Hermione, I think you’ve been using your brilliance for too many noble deeds. I should have recruited you for pranks long ago.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling nonetheless. “As if I would support some of your crueler pranks.”

Fred leaned back, returning to his food and letting Hermione return to hers and her book. As he ate, he started going over the plot in his head again, now revised with his earlier improvisation. He was pretending to tutor Hermione until someone (probably Ginny, given her newfound interest in teasing Hermione as well as the fact that she was the only one Hermione trusted with the information about Viktor) exposed the ‘truth.’ During this, they wouldn’t directly tell anyone what was really going on between them, but they would straddle the line between obvious and coy as best they could. It was especially perfect because if rumors started going around, Rita Skeeter seemed to have both a vendetta against Hermione and a method of getting information from Hogwarts despite not being allowed on the grounds anymore. If Ron’s reactions to Viktor Krum simply sitting in the library with Hermione were anything to go by, this would wear away at him just as well, if not better.

At least until it came out that Fred Weasley and Hermione Granger were dating. Then Ickle Ronnikins was liable to throw a fit.

“So, are we starting tonight or after the break?” he asked when she looked like she was about done, not needing to lower his voice this time. “Because we both know how you are when it comes to studying.”

What his friends would have thought he was implying was that he knew Hermione was eager to perfect her Charms abilities, but he really meant it to say that he wanted to know when she thought was best to add this extra bit of work in her daily routine. The previous night he’d brought up the idea, he told her that it was a bit of leg work to convincingly enact their plot. And Hermione would certainly never sign up for anything that might cause her grades to slip if she focused on it too much.

She gave it a little more than a second’s thought. “Tonight wouldn’t be too bad. Meet you in the library after dinner?”

“We could just walk together.” 

It was sure to start off the confusion they both knew would be caused by their plan, he mentally reasoned, if only to convince himself that he didn’t say it _just_ because he wanted to be around her for longer. 

Standing up from her seat, she nodded in assent and beamed. She really had a lovely smile when it was paired with a devious glint in her eyes. It was a shame that she'd shrunk her front teeth earlier that year, Fred thought. There was an adorable charm in her smile before, but he was willing to accept the change if this made her more comfortable. “We might as well.”

“I could even get you started on our first lesson,” he said, pulling out his wand and waving it in a circle. _“Orchideous.”_

Flowers sprouted from the tip of his wand - yellow daffodils and bright red chrysanthemums. It was a bit much, he had to admit, but they had to start somewhere. Hermione’s brown eyes warmed at the sight of them before she took them on her way out of the Great Hall. 

“Thank you, Professor Weasley,” she joked.

She almost left before Fred grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her back to him. For a moment, he looked stern but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I must ask one thing of you: Never refer to me with a title of respect like that again.”

With a playful pout, she said, “You’re no fun.”

“Am I _really_ the person you should be challenging by saying that?” he asked, smirking mischievously as he let her go. “I’ll show you just how much fun I am when we’re alone tonight!”

Hermione cocked her head back with a wink as she left. “Looking forward to it.”

Ron and Harry appeared to notice their friend's strange behavior as she walked past them again with a bouquet of flowers in hand, but they were too busy gawking to put in the slightest effort required to figure out who gave it to her, which they wouldn't have missed if they simply turned their heads to where she previously sat. If they'd done that, they would have seen Fred with his chin resting on the heel of his hand with his usual smug little grin and unusually dreamy blue eyes. As it was, they'd somehow completely overlooked him.

But Ginny hadn't.


	4. Down to Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is once again angered by Ron putting his foot in his mouth.

“Do you want some time alone with that thing, mate?” Ron asked uneasily as he looked over at Harry.

Hermione glanced up as well, looking up from an Arithmancy book that she was re-reading to prevent Ron from trying to make her do his homework. Of course, Harry was laying on a couch with the golden egg he’d secured in the first part of the Tournament, staring into the fireplace. His normally bright green eyes were dull as he hugged the egg to his chest like it was his only lifeline.

“What _are_ you going to do about the egg? Because I’m really starting to be concerned over how desolate you look when you hold it like that.”

He shrugged, rubbing his thumb over the golden surface. “I still haven’t figured out anything about it. Every time I’ve been in the dorm alone, I’ve opened it, shook it while it was closed before opening it, asked it questions, shouted over it, and thrown it across the room. Nothing works.”

Hermione frowned, thinking to herself. “And you haven’t overheard anything from the other champions that might have to do with it?”

“If anything, you could ask Hagrid to talk to Madame Maxime,” Ron suggested. “She seems like she wouldn’t budge, but it’s worth a try.”

The lack of mention of Viktor made Hermione relax a little, even if Ron simply avoided the topic because he wasn’t in the mood for another shouting match.

Harry bit his bottom lip and returned his gaze to the fire before quietly saying, “I haven’t heard a thing.”

“Really? That’s actually surprising. I would have thought Cedric would have helped after you told him about the dragons. Hufflepuff and all.” She wasn’t usually one for stereotypes, but she knew that House’s ways. Despite not receiving much glory in the school, they were usually welcoming. (Except, of course, after Harry’s name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Then, they were furious at how unfair that was.) But when Hermione noticed the quick way Harry’s eyes darted to hers and away again, she became suspicious. “He did, didn’t he?”

Harry shrugged, looking quite like a stubborn child who’d gotten caught stealing but still refused to admit what he’d done. If the Triwizard Tournament wasn’t so dangerous, Hermione might have laughed.

As it was, she crossed her arms and clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Let me guess: It was last night, and you don’t want to listen to what he said because he was with Cho.”  
Sitting up, Harry groaned, “Yes, okay? I’m miserable and stubborn, and his advice was rubbish anyway!”

“Well, what did he say?”

“He told me to take a bath with the egg.” With a sharp exhale, Harry shook his head and laid back down. “Because, you know, maybe ‘mulling things over in the hot water’ will let me unwind enough to realize that he just wants me make a fool of myself.”

Nodding, Ron seemed to agree. “I mean, he sounds barking mad.”

Hermione had stopped listening to either of them after what Harry had said, though. She was too caught up thinking about what it could have meant. “Water.”

“What?” Harry asked, recognizing the look on Hermione’s face. 

“Water! Harry, that’s it - he gave you what you need to know.” Closing her book, Hermione sat up and moved closer to Harry, pointing to the egg. “This thing sounds like it’s shrieking when you open it. But everything sounds different in water. Maybe if you open it underwater, it’ll make a noise that can give you a hint about the next challenge, and we can prepare for it months in advance!”

While Harry looked convinced, Ron wrinkled his nose. “And Diggory couldn’t have just said to open it underwater?”

“Yeah, he would have looked like a real hero in front of Cho,” Harry said, hugging the egg again with that same sad look in his eyes. “Had it all figured out for Wee Harry Potter.”

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione said, “Are you really going to be bitter at him for plucking up the courage to ask her out before you? It’s not like he did it out of spite - he most likely doesn’t know that you like her.”

To be honest, for as much as she was saying that for Harry, she was also hoping Ron was listening. Because if they could just realize that their reactions weren’t helping them, then maybe they could get on with their lives. Both of them were being even more dramatic than Parvati and Lavender ever were - and _that_ was saying something. 

As he turned his gaze back to the fireplace, he sighed. “Don’t remind me. I can’t even be mad at him without hating myself for being angry at someone so guiltless.”

And there was the difference between Harry and Ron. While Ron was quick to lose his temper, Harry was usually friendly and kind, especially to those who deserved it. Even with the _Potter SUCKS_ pins that went around, he still told Cedric about the first task in order to keep everything fair between the champions. Plus, he must have been considerate of the fact that Cho and Cedric were happy together, which only made him feel worse.

So, with all this in mind, Hermione couldn’t help but feel sorry for Harry. She knew she didn’t exactly understand how much it was hurting him (because the few times she’d been even remotely worried about boys, she reacted by throwing herself into schoolwork even more until she got over it), but she reached up from her place on the floor and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“It’ll all work out in the end,” she said, smiling wryly when he glanced over to her. “I know it.”

He patted her hand on his shoulder and tried for a smile before looking away again. _Alright then,_ Hermione told herself as his eyes glazed over, _perhaps we should get back to work._

She closed her book and sat up. “We should probably go down to the lake tomorrow since we wouldn’t be able to get back in time for dinner if we went now.”

“Cedric gave me the password to the Prefects’ bathroom,” Harry dismissed.

“Then you two can go after dinner.”

As Hermione tucked her book under her arm, Ron and Harry exchanged glances. Ron had the nerve to ask, “What, did Krum invite you to spend time with him after dinner when he gave you those flowers this morning?”

With a sigh, Harry lifted his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, already sensing the coming argument. He looked like he wanted to either sink into the couch or take his egg and run.

“First, I think it’ll already look suspicious for two boys to go into one bathroom together,” she hissed, getting up from her seat on the floor, “let alone two boys and a girl. Second, while I _would_ tell you, again, that Viktor and I are just friends, you appear not to listen. If you must know, I’m going to the library to do some review for Charms.”

“With your Bulgarian bon-bon, of course,” Ron spat out.

Hermione fumed, gritting her teeth. She wasn’t sure if it was a smart move to make, dangling this in front of Ron already, but considering the entire point of the plan was to make him angry, she figured she might as well. 

So she mustered an evil grin despite how absolutely enraged her friend was making her and replied, “For your information, I’ll be spending time with Fred. You know, the person who actually gave me the flowers.”

“That’s rubbish!” Ron practically shouted. “Fred wouldn’t give a girl flowers unless there was a joke involved.”

“Believe it or not, your brother, the notoriously mischievous prankster, can actually be nice at times.” She stopped herself before she moved to the other side of the common room, already tired of the conversation and the blood pounding in her ears. “Unlike you. I’m starting to think the only joke involved here was the one where I thought you were a supportive friend.”

She didn’t wait for him to say anything else before she tucked herself in an armchair near where Ginny and Neville were playing Gobstones, politely greeting them before opening her book again, though she did overhear a bit of the conversation.

“She’s joking, right?” Ron asked. “Either that, or she’s mad.”

Harry said, “If you say so.”

Just when Hermione was thinking to herself about how she coped with boys getting her riled up, here she was having to go ahead and cope. Except she was too angry to focus until Crookshanks - the little angel he was - curled up in her lap and rubbed his face against her arm. She softened at the sight of her dear companion and let her anger go as she brushed her fingers through his fur.

She felt a tap on her shoulder sometime after she had settled back into her book, and when she looked up, it was Fred leaning over the back of the armchair. He said under his breath, "Ron's been glaring daggers at you occasionally for the past five minutes, so I'm guessing you told him."

"Obviously." She proceeded to tell him what happened and exactly what she said.

Fred made a contemplative hum before glancing over to his little brother. "Funny how he doesn't glare at me, too."

Feeling her face flush with heat again, Hermione snapped her book shut. The sound made Crookshanks flinch, so she soothed him back to his near-sleeping state as she scoffed in her usual fast manner, "He doesn't believe me. Of course not; he didn't believe me when I said I had a date to the Yule Ball. As if no one would ever be interested in me. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not daft! I know how others think of me, and I was as surprised as anyone that Viktor Krum of all people asked me, but when Ron says things like that, in that dismissive tone, it's maddening."

"Well, it's a good thing our plan will anger him right back," Fred offered above her with a half-smile. "If all else fails, I can compromise my principles for you and do a repeat prank where instead of any old insects, we use spiders, and instead of Slytherin girls, we target him."

The idea momentarily appealed to her. She'd seen how he reacted to the spider Professor Moody used in their class to demonstrate the Unforgivable Curses and was extremely familiar with his fear. She also knew where that fear stemmed from.

Smiling, she said, "He told me why he's so scared of them, you know. Turning a teddy bear into a spider at the age of five is some really amazing Transfiguration, Fred."

His cheeks turned pink, blushing just enough that Hermione might not have been able to see if he wasn't so close. "I don't think magic really counts before we get our wands. At five, 'magic' is just get really angry, sad, or scared, and hope something happens."

"Perhaps," she conceded, "but the magic I showed was extremely minor. Just weird things that happened to the girls who bullied me in school - their hair or clothes becoming an ugly color or something. So, I still think it's impressive."

Fred couldn't seem to help grinning, his cheeks now as violently red as his hair. "As much as I thrive from the praise, I do have a few questions to ask." 

Ah, yes. Well, he obviously didn't get her attention just to have an idle chat.

"I may have a few answers to give," Hermione replied teasingly when he seemed to hesitate.

"I'm not saying I'd back out if he is, but Krum isn't going to kill me for this plan of ours, is he?"

She nearly rolled her eyes at having to explain this to someone again. "Viktor and I are just friends. He's a little disappointed that we're not more, but he accepted when I said I didn't want to go out with him."

Accepting this with a nod, Fred continued. "Okay. Did you two ever kiss?"

"I just said we were friends!" she replied, her voice a little too loud and face a little too hot for her liking. 

He shrugged and offered, "Sometimes friends kiss. Whether it's just because they got caught up in a moment, or they're curious about if they could be more than friends. It's nothing to be so embarrassed about."

He was right, obviously, and Hermione _knew_ he was right before he even said it. But she was a little shy talking about these things, so she has to coax herself into calming down.

She admitted, "Yes."

Something flickered in Fred's eyes before he chuckled. "Blimey, Hermione. Was he good at snogging?"

"It didn't go that far," she snapped. "Besides, I wouldn't really know, seeing as it was my first kiss."

The smirk that tugged at his lips like usual dropped almost into a frown. He was suddenly serious, and Hermione was always worried whenever either of the twins were being serious. 

"Speaking of kissing," he started, "how far are you willing to let this thing go?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said yourself that we have to be convincing, which is obvious. But couples act differently from friends, as you well know. They hold hands and flirt and snog. I need to know ahead of time so I don't make you uncomfortable: What would you be willing to do to keep the act up?"

He had a fair point. The idea of the two of them either being sickeningly sweet around their friends or doing little else but snogging whenever they were together made Hermione's eyes roll so fast, they almost fell out of her head. She wouldn't be able to stand such a relationship that felt, to her, so exceedingly inauthentic - even if it _was_ actually fake all along. Maybe other girls wanted that, but all she wanted was someone who could keep up with her, make her feel comfortable, and respect her and her needs and desires. 

Plus, there was the uncertainty she had about casually kissing someone she wasn't _really_ dating. But Fred didn't seem like he'd make her regret it. He was asking her for the sake of her comfort after all, wasn't he? In case someone doubted the legitimacy of the relationship, she guessed, they could kiss to prove a point. But would that really be necessary?

It was all so confusing until she caught Ron's glare across the common room, and her eyebrows furrowed as she came to a decision. "Nearly anything."

And just like that, all the seriousness fled Fred's expression again as a Cheshire-like grin bloomed across his lips, and he practically purred, "Brave girl."


	5. Hours of Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening of Fred and Hermione's first "tutoring session" ends with Fred coming clean to George.

Fred knew that Hermione knew he was staring as he straddled one of the library chairs (because of course he could never sit in a chair normally; that was much too boring), and he knew that she was choosing to pretend she didn’t know. Her eyes were glued to a book, remaining steadfast despite the way he was observing her. There was a smile beginning to pull at the corners of her mouth despite that she tried to control it, and that just made him even more amused as he watched her.

“Did Mrs. Weasley never tell you that it’s rude to stare?” she whispered once she finally looked up, only able to stand about a minute of the curious way he looked her over. 

Resting the side of his head against the heel of his hand, he shrugged. “I’m just amazed.”

“By what?”

“The fact that you study all the time and are probably weeks ahead of your classes but still somehow feel the need to study even more. And that you can find more to study.”

She went blank for a moment, neither her eyes nor her mouth giving away any sort of emotion. Then her gaze flicked back down to the book. “Always good to do a bit of review.”

“I never really understood studying,” he muttered before pulling her book over to him, “or maybe I just wasn’t good at it. Can’t focus on something for a long time unless it’s something I’m creating, like a prank.”

“Might help if you take notes and read them over.” 

She tried reaching over to grab her book, but Fred had longer arms than she had and held it out of reach. After only one attempt, she gave up, knowing that Madam Pince would react unfavorably if she caught students fighting over books. 

Glancing at the cover of the book, he flipped through the pages haphazardly. “I take notes if I need something to do in class, but I never try to memorize them unless it’s something important. I mean, what’s the point of me knowing something like Arithmancy or Ancient Runes? I’m not going to be a Curse-Breaker like Bill.”

Hermione took out another book from her bag, having planned for this, and pointed out, “If you took those classes, you could be.”

“But I don’t want to be,” Fred replied with a shrug. “And we both know I definitely can’t be an Auror, so the courses required for that aren’t much use to me either.”

"What _do_ you want to do? Run betting pools?" she asked, referencing how he and George invited students to place bets on the first Triwizard Tournament task.

“No, we’re only doing that to fund our dream. George and I want to own a joke shop.”

As she lifted her gaze from the book in front of her again, her nose scrunched. “What, like your own Zonko’s?”

Fred deadpanned at her words, tapping her nose. The wrinkles in it smoothed out, and she blinked in surprise as he said, “Comparing it to Zonko’s makes it not _our_ own, but yes.”

“I’m sure the pair of you will succeed in influencing an entire generation of witches and wizards to cause mayhem in Hogwarts.”

“Not just Hogwarts. We hope to go international.”

A grin finally rose to her lips, and she narrowed her eyes as if trying to make sure he was serious. “Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, too?”

“Further,” Fred said. “I want to spread chaos throughout the wizarding world. Everywhere there’s magic to be had, there ought to be fun, too.”

She shook her head. “Only you and George would equate chaos and fun.”

Of course they would, Fred thought to himself. After all, rules never led to good jokes or pranks. Order never led to flying cars and rescue missions. Structure never led to friendships and families. The best things in life, he’d long discovered, came from all sorts of chaos.

Even with Hermione. He adored her hair in its natural state - wild, curly, and absolutely beautiful - even though he couldn’t say it looked bad after being treated with Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion. And when she was passionate enough, she could be quite unpredictable. Maybe it was when Fred heard about her slapping Malfoy that he first felt the spark of attraction that made him have such a big crush on her now. He never expected that she’d had it in her, but after what she’d said earlier to him about being willing to do _nearly anything_ to ensure the believability of their plan, he was starting to admire her more spontaneous moments.

Rather than confessing any of this, he smirked and said, “Don’t act like you being best friends with Harry and Ron with all the trouble they bring means anything other than that you love chaos and trouble.”

“My being best friends with Harry and Ron means that I enjoy their company,” she said, but it wasn’t as convincing while she was still grinning. “But I will admit that while my time at Hogwarts would be less stressful without the trouble, it’s allowed me to grow. Now, while I have you here, I believe you said you’d help me practice some Charms. We can start with the spell you did today with the flowers.”

As he rolled his eyes with an amused chuckle, Fred supposed he should have expected this. “Alright.”

~

“Okay, Freddie,” George started as he followed his twin up the stairs. “Feel free to drop the act now.”

By the time the library closed, Fred taught Hermione a few of the spells he learned in Charms the previous year, knowing she’d love to get ahead. He’d taught her the flower-summoning spell he used earlier as well as a bedazzling hex and a slippery jinx that would have gotten them kicked out early if it hadn’t been for Fred catching the book that Hermione dropped. When they got back to the common room, he had a bouquet of bright blue irises in hand, and she had a slippery book tucked in her bag and a practically invisible quill - both of whch would return to their natural state by tomorrow.

He should have expected that his twin brother would want to talk. After the flowers he’d given Hermione and the bunch that he’d received, it was only reasonable. It didn’t help that he’d rushed past George, Lee, and Angelina to put the flowers away so that they wouldn’t ask about it.

Fred scrambled to hide the flowers, carefully placing them in his trunk with a quick preservation spell. Once that was done, he sat back on his bed, feigned an innocent expression, and twirled his wand between his fingers, meeting his twin’s eyes. “I’ve no idea what you mean, Georgie.”

George narrowed his eyes, and Fred grinned in response. Crossing his arms, George sat next to Fred on the bed and said, “Timeout.”

With a sigh, Fred relented from his show. He couldn’t lie or just joke around and avoid the topic. That was one of The Rules he’d set up with George long ago - whenever one of them was seriously concerned about the other, they’d call for a timeout and speak honestly and seriously. After all, they couldn’t afford to have secrets separating them when there were already so many secrets and memories that bound them together.

Especially when it concerned Hermione. The moment she and Harry became Ron’s best friends, both the twins swore to themselves and each other that they’d treat them the same way they treated their siblings - with care hidden behind jokes. Ever since their first year, they’d both gotten to know Harry and Hermione and even become friends with them. The twins obviously weren’t as close to the pair as Ron was, but that didn’t mean that both Fred and George wouldn’t risk a couple of detentions taking revenge if anyone hurt either of them. They’d almost gotten close when Malfoy used that dirty slur against Hermione. So, it made sense that George was concerned here that perhaps one of Fred’s more ruthless moods took over, even though it was quite the opposite.

With this in mind, Fred let his smile fall for now and looked to George, waiting for him to start.

And start he did, getting right to the point. “What’s going on between you and Hermione?”

With a deep breath, Fred admitted, “Honestly? Nothing. We just want to make Ron angry.”

The left corner of George’s mouth quirked up as his eyes narrowed - the telltale sign that he was unconvinced by something. “Okay, ignoring _why_ you want to piss Ron off for now, that doesn’t explain why you’re smiling at her like she’s part-Veela.” When Fred hesitated, George smiled - in the kinder, softer way he did when compared to his brother - and asked, “Do you fancy her?”

“Of course I do,” Fred said under his breath. “She’s clever, driven, and compassionate - you can see all that with just the whole S.P.E.W. thing, even if it’s not going to work out the way she wants.”

“Not to mention she showed up to the Yule Ball looking like a million Galleons was enough to catch the attention of any man not already spoken for.” 

Fred felt his face flush, and he raised a hand to cover his cheeks. “Obviously. But it’s not just that. She’s actually quite pretty in her normal day-to-day attire.”

Now George couldn’t help his grin. To be fair, Fred had to have expected it after the Angelina situation. When Fred finally got George to admit his feelings in private, he, Fred, just had to grin smugly at his brother before setting to work on how to get them together. He sensed that George was already trying to work out a scheme of his own to guarantee that Fred and Hermione ended up together, but Fred was already a step ahead of him. Well, sort of.

“So, you’re not actually helping her practice Charms?” George asked, elbowing his twin. 

Fred snorted. “You know her. She’d never let me say that without getting a few spells out of me. Though I must admit, we weren’t just practicing. We were discussing the plan.”

Interest sparked in George’s eyes, and as mischief returned to his expression, he couldn’t help but ask, “What plan?”

“Let me tell you all about it, brother mine,” Fred began with a wicked grin.


	6. Second Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While at the library, Hermione gets irritated by Ron's hot temper again.

"Are you positive that that’s what the egg said?”

Hermione was sure her hair looked a right mess as she rushed out of her dorm room that morning. Ginny had said that Harry and Ron needed to speak with her about the egg, so she hadn’t wasted any time getting downstairs. Even though she was still ticked off, she couldn’t subject Harry to the same silent treatment she wished to give Ron. Besides, she figured, Ron was going to regret his hot temper soon enough. 

With a sigh, Harry crossed his arms and leaned against the bookcase he was standing by and recited the entire song for Hermione this time. 

“Okay, and Moaning Myrtle confirmed everything you were saying?” she asked when he concluded. Harry nodded. “So the next task will take place in the Black Lake, and you’ll have an hour to go through merpeople to find something dear to you… We’ll still have to find out what that means, of course.”

With a hopeless look in his eyes, Harry said, “Hermione, you’re ignoring one important fact among these. I can barely swim to save my life.”

“And how are you supposed to breathe?” Ron added. “Merpeople are probably only at the bottom of the lake, and unless you have some secret and convenient Mermish heritage you’ve never heard of before now, I don’t think you’ll survive an hour underwater.”

Now was the time for Hermione to cross her arms with an exasperated sigh before looking up at the sign she was standing under indicating the section of the library they were in. _Innovations and Applications._ “Wow, I reckon we’d never be able to find something to help you. It seems quite impossible.”

Harry was the first to follow her eyes, but Ron was less than a second behind. Both the boys groaned inwardly. Looking back down at them, a smile curled her lips before she rounded the side of the bookcase and stooped to look at the lower shelves.

“What would we do without you?” Harry said with a shake of his head. 

As she started looking across book spines for titles which could be relevant, Hermione shrugged. She was too busy focusing to come up with more of a response. Even if the next part of the tournament was nearly two months away, she knew that the Hogwarts library was practically endless. If anyone besides Madam Pince realized how much work was cut out for her, it was herself. After all, she’d already tried reading as many of these books as possible before during the first few months of her first term.

Ron stepped forward almost cautiously, looking at the higher shelves. He answered, “We probably wouldn’t have gotten past first year without her brains.”

As he joined them, Harry snorted. “Probably? Definitely.”

Another smile managed to make its way onto her mouth. How these boys (especially Ron) could make her either angry or relaxed with little more than a few words was beyond her understanding. Maybe that was why she liked books so much: Words had great power, whether they were magical or not.

Even words said in jest or with duplicitousness, Hermione thought to herself. When they first came in, she almost brought them all the way to the corner where she normally tucked herself away to study. The corner where she’d stayed with Fred last night. But then she remembered herself and stopped in this section. It was lucky that it turned out that it would probably be the place they’d be able to find help. 

“So many of these books have to do with innocuous daily activities,” she breathed under her breath, more to herself out of irritation than anything else. “Cooking, cleaning, makeup, sewing--- is there any task wizards will just do by themselves without magic? Why not just make spells that’ll chew your food and swallow it for you?”

“Careful, love. Speak too loud, and a lazy wizard might overhear your ingenious idea.”

It was then that Hermione bumped into a pair of legs while she was moving down the shelves, and she looked up into blue eyes with scarlet hair falling into them. Though the eyes were captivating, she couldn’t help her instinct to look just above and to her right - his left - to find the faint scar.

“Fred,” she started with her strict and bossy voice, she could have sworn. But after saying his name, he smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but continue with a chuckle, “If such a wizard isn’t too lazy to come up with a new spell, surely he isn’t also too lazy to chew his own food?”

With his hands in his pockets, he shrugged. “You never know. People are strange like that.”

“Speaking of strange, what are _you_ doing in the library?” Ron interjected, raising an eyebrow at his brother. 

Fred shrugged. “Herbology essay.”

“You’re not taking Herbology this year.”

"No, but I am." As if sensing his cue, George rounded the corner of the bookcase Hermione was just looking at and explained, “This place is practically infinite, so I made Fred a deal if he’d help me find a good book about the practical uses of Gillyweed.”

As George put an arm around his twin, whose cheeks were suddenly dusted pink, with a smug grin, Hermione suddenly wondered what sort of deal they made. 

Harry spared a glance over to them, a look of defeat already starting to take over his features as he tilted a book to take it off the shelf before evidently thinking better of it. “I don’t suppose one of those uses is helping someone breathe underwater for an hour.”

Because Hermione knew Harry said it as part of his usual dry humor, she was quite surprised to find George’s eyes widen at the remark.

“How’d you know?”

Hermione, Harry, and Ron all exchanged glances before Hermione asked, “Would either of you happen to know where we could find some?”

Clueless, George shrugged. “Why do you think I need books about it?”

"Books," Hermione sighed, biting her lip, "about plants."

She went through all the Herbology books she could think of, trying to remember any mention of Gillyweed, but couldn't think of any.

But Harry spoke up soon enough. "Neville's got loads from Moody."

"That's right," Ron agreed with a gasp of realization. "He was talking about them last night in the common room - couldn't stop telling us boring plant facts. Think he'd have something?"

"I think we ought to try, at least," Hermione responded. 

Harry said, "We'll check the common room, and if he's not there, I'll grab the map to see where he is."

The three of them were about to set off, quick as that, before Fred called Hermione's name. She turned around, prompting him with raised eyebrows, only to be met with his usual smirk. "So, I'm not getting a goodbye kiss, then?"

Half-smiling, she rolled her eyes. He'd mentioned in passing before that he might say something like this in front of Ron, just as part of the plan, and he'd also told her to act natural. So, she lifted her chin and asked, "And just why would you?"

"Because you adore me and my - what did you call them - miraculously, life-savingly delicious lips."

 _"Sure."_ Hermione approached him again. "Then close your eyes."

Fred's eyebrows shot to his hairline, and it seemed that he hadn't expected that response, even as a joke. 

Which it _was._

"What, you don't want the kiss after all?" she asked, crossing her arms with a pout.

Fred's eyes quickly darted from her to George at his side to Ron and Harry gawking at them at the end of the bookcases. When his gaze landed on her again, he recovered his usual devilish smirk and responded, "Just surprised you didn't put up your usual fight."

He closed his eyes and leaned forward expectantly. Hermione, on the other hand, grinned with a wink to George before she turned around and left with Ron and Harry. Three seconds after she rounded the corner, she heard George give up the fight to contain his laughter.

Shaking her head, she chuckled to herself before she realized that Harry and Ron slowed down to a stop. The boys exchanged glances before Ron spoke up.

"Alright, what the bloody hell is going on between you and Fred?"

Rolling her eyes, she continued walking anyway. If the boys were going to get caught up on this, at least she would ask Neville about Gillyweed--- That is, unless she ended up changing her mind and throwing Harry to the wolves - or merpeople in this case. "I don't know what you mean."

Following her, Ron said, "That's rich. You know I'm talking about the flowers and the library dates and the _kisses."_

"What kisses?" she asked coyly. "I haven't kissed him. You both saw that."

Either Harry wanted to stay quiet, or Ron just wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise. "Just because we didn't see it now doesn't mean it hasn't happened before. And what's he doing going around giving you flowers? What are you doing accepting them?"

She had to take a moment to compose herself at this, taking a deep breath so as not to shout in the middle of the library. "I am allowed to accept flowers from handsome young men. If they happen to come from a Bulgarian Quidditch player or a red-headed twin, who am I to refuse?"

"You're supposed to be the brightest witch of our age!' Ron hissed. "You have to see that this isn't going to end well for you."

Suddenly, Hermione's pride kicked into gear, and she fumed as they finally made it out of the library. How dare he imply that she was foolish for possibly being involved with Fred? Besides, she _did_ know better than to be interested in someone who would hurt her, and even if she made a mistake about that, it wasn't Ron's job to dictate who she should and shouldn't date _for her sake._

And then Hermione got angered on Fred's behalf. That's his own brother he's saying would hurt her--- didn't Ron have any sort of trust in the twins? Or did he merely view them as heartless pranksters, put both of them in a box that they would never escape? While Hermione couldn't pretend that she thought Fred was her ideal match, she knew he was more than jokes and thought Ron should have known just as well. Fred _had_ nearly attacked Draco Malfoy on her behalf two years ago in front of Ron, so Ron should have realized that Fred wasn't willing to stand by and let anyone hurt her, let alone do the hurting himself.

Now without fear of Madam Pince hushing her, she asked with her voice at normal volume, "Why would you think that?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know how Fred and George are!"

"And…? What about them makes you think I'll end up badly from this?"

"You're not Fred's type, so he must be doing this to mess with you!"

Enraged, Hermione rounded on him. Who was he to say who was and wasn't Fred's type? If Fred had said it to her, she wouldn't have minded nearly as much since it was his right to like or dislike whoever he pleased, but the nerve of Ron! She was really starting to see that horrid side of him return these past few weeks - the side that caused her to go hiding in the girls' bathroom to cry in her first year - and she couldn't stand for it anymore.

"And how would you know? It took you three years of knowing me to figure out that I'm a bloody girl!"

Ron flushed violently at that. "I've always known that you're a girl. But you have to realize that he---"

"Realize what? That the infamous Fred Weasley would never _really_ be interested in me? That Viktor Krum would never be interested? That no bloody guy would ever see me as anything more than a bossy, stuffy bookworm, the same way you do?" Hermione leaned in, daring Ron to challenge her as she continued, "Well, pardon me if other boys can look at me and see something attractive, but I happen to be quite proud of the fact that I'm so much more than homework help with bushy hair, even if you only view me as such."

Ron paled at her rant, looking like he wanted to respond, but his mouth hung open without even a word exiting. 

Meanwhile, Harry looked between the two of them, his bright green eyes filled with concern and filling Hermione with guilt. With a huff, she turned around and started heading to the quad before she could take back any of what she said. Admittedly, it was partly her pride that caused her to leave. Even if she said it in haste, the only thing that she regretted about her words was the fact that Harry had to watch all that play out, so there was no way she would let herself apologize for speaking up for herself.

And if Ron wanted to get mad at her for simply _joking_ about kissing Fred, well, maybe Hermione was seriously starting to consider the benefits of actually going through with it.

She stopped herself as she entered the quad and that thought crossed her mind. A groan escaped her, and she ran her hands through her hair in frustration. How could she let herself think that? What was she doing, going though with this plan of Fred's? Sure, it had started as his idea, and they both understood what it meant and where the other stood, but was she really so ruthless that she would go through with kissing someone--- _using_ someone? 

Using Fred? Even if he said he was okay with it? It's not like he was a perfectly innocent young man, but this was unfair to him. She just couldn't bring herself to even consider pretending to flirt with him anymore, let alone perform any of the other romantic activities that couples engaged in. Least of all, kissing. Despite his mischief, he was compassionate towards her. He cared about her. When all this started, he'd been the one to offer her comfort, and the fact that he was going through with this was more for her benefit than for his. What did he even get out of it? Getting Ron annoyed? Surely he had better things to do than that, or at least more direct methods of managing it. 

Hermione's mouth twisted into a frown. She'd been letting her emotions get the better of her again, hadn't she? _Ugh!_ Ready to seek out Fred, she bit her lip as she turned around again. She needed to talk to him.

She needed to stop this plan of theirs before anything else came of it.


	7. A Bit of Extra Convincing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione believes that they shouldn't continue the plan since she's doing it out of anger, but Fred has a different take on the situation.

Fred knew something was up when he saw Hermione walking between the bookshelves with her head turning both ways before she hurried along to the next set of shelves. He caught her gaze as he was moving to the next aisle of the same section she’d left him in, smiling at her only to be met with a frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as she approached him, her cheeks rosy as if she rushed across half the castle to get there. 

She leaned against the bookcase next to her for support before she said, “I don’t think we should carry on with this.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Fred slowly closed the space between them and lowered his voice even more. “Are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?”

With a few quick nods, she exhaled harshly, trying to catch her breath. Her lack of breath didn’t stop her from speaking in her typical quick pace. “I’m not coming into this with the best of intentions, and I don’t want to take advantage of you just because Ron’s making me a little pissed off. He’s not worth it.”

“You did hear me asking you to kiss me, right?” he asked, slightly amused by her concern and slightly touched by it.

“I know,” she dismissed, “but it feels like I’m using you. You deserve to be treated better than that, and you especially shouldn’t be pretending to date a girl when I’m sure plenty fancy you for real.”

Fred allowed himself to smirk, resting a hand above her head as he leaned in. “If you weren’t saying the exact opposite, I would think you’re trying to charm me with all these compliments.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as her lips pressed into a thin line. “Fred, I’m serious.”

“And I’m taking you seriously.” With the hand he wasn’t leaning on, he lifted her chin to examine her expression. “You were fine twenty minutes ago. What happened?”

Hermione avoided his eyes, trying to turn her face away, but he held her steadfast. Just as he was starting to think this avoidant behavior of hers was familiar, she tried, “Nothing, I just---”

“What did Ron say?”

She froze. Then, she said in a tone that felt too measured to be calm, “I didn’t say anything about him.”

“Whenever something he’s said bothers you, you always try to prevent people from seeing how much he got under your skin.” Fred tilted his head to try to get in her line of sight again. “What did he say?”

She remained silent for longer than he felt comfortable with, and in the seconds before she admitted it, his mind raced with all the mean little ways Ron could get under her skin. Eventually, she avoided Fred’s eyes again and said, “He said that since I’m not your type, you must just want to mess with me.”

Clicking his tongue, he shook his head as rage twisted his mouth into a frown. “That foul little git. He may not have a teddy bear anymore, but I’m certain I can Transfigure all the things he values most now into spiders.” He paused before asking, “You think Harry’s Animagus would be a spider?"

She didn’t laugh. "You don't have to worry about him. I'm over it."

"I don't have to---?” He chuckled in disbelief, all hints of humor vacant from his expression. “Hermione, you're not the only one he's insulted here. He's got no right to try to say what my type is. I don't even think I know what my type is. Besides that, I think I'll have to hex him just for saying that I would willfully hurt you."

"I thought you'd be pissed off by that,” she admitted, avoiding his eyes as if she didn’t want to be the one to deliver this news.

"You were right, as always.” He let himself cool off for a second, stepping back to give her some space. “But why'd that make you want to stop the plan after it's just barely started?"

Fiddling with her fingers, Hermione answered as Fred resumed his hunt for a good book for George’s Herbology assignment. "It was the fact that he made me so angry. I thought to myself that if that's how reacts when I make a point not to kiss you, maybe I should see how mad it drives him if I actually do it, and then I realized that that wasn't right. Not to you, at least."

He shrugged. "I told you before, we've already talked about kissing. It's fine."

"No, it just feels wrong,” she said, conflict edging into her voice despite her conviction. “Like I only view you as someone to use to get one over on Ron."

"Do you?"

"What?" she squeaked as she looked up to find Fred peering curiously at her over his shoulder.

"Only view me as a way to get one over on Ron?"

"No!” Her cheeks flushed with color as she realized her voice was a touch too loud, and she lowered it immediately, stepping closer to him. “Of course not--- I'd never admit it in front of most other people, but some of those pranks you and George pull are as brilliant and hilarious as the people who orchestrated them. Besides, you're the guy who cheered me up when I was crying at the Yule Ball, and I really appreciate that."

Now was Fred’s turn to blush, proud that he’d actually managed to comfort her that night. But he hid the color rising to his cheeks by pretending to look through a book he had absolutely no interest in. "Then what's the problem? You don't actually view me as something you can use, and I know that."

A heavy exhale left her, and he figured she couldn’t argue with that point. "But still---"

Turning to her, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in those adorable chocolate brown eyes before he said, "Look, I know you're nearly impossible to convince when you've already made up your mind, so I'll be quick. If you want to do this, I'm all for it. It seems like him thinking that we're together has revealed some of his true feelings about both of us, and for once, I want to know what he thinks while I make him go absolutely mad. After the way he's hurt both of us, I think he deserves the worst we can bring. To do that, I need you." 

Her eyes widened at his finishing sentiment, and her mouth parted in surprise, hanging open for a few seconds before she nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Just okay?" he asked, tilting his head at her strangely blank expression.

"What would you prefer I say?"

With a smirk, he decided to pretend to be an arrogant prat as usual. "I don't know, something like, 'Oh, Fred, you're so clever and awesome, I'm completely convinced, and I think we should snog as much as we can before Madam Pince kicks us out for sullying her precious books!'"

Rolling her eyes, she finally huffed a laugh and imitated the high-pitched voice he took on. “Oh, Fred, you’re so clever and awesome, I’m completely convinced.”

He let go of her shoulders before leaning in and crossing his arms expectantly. “And…?”

“You didn’t say to use your exact words,” she chirped, turning her back to him as she retreated.

“Shall I assume you’re waiting until Ron crosses another line?” Fred called out after her. “Careful, Hermione. First kisses with new people are _always_ awkward, so if you wait to kiss me in front of anyone, they’ll tell that you aren’t used to it. And this becomes that much more unbelievable.”

After all, it was already a big stretch of the imagination that _these two_ \- the chaotic, pranking slacker and the hard-working, organized scholar - would have any interest in each other. Fred could hardly believe his own feelings himself at times, especially in moments like earlier that year when she challenged his and George’s aging potion against the Goblet of Fire. She was right, of course, and he couldn’t stand her smugness almost as much as he couldn’t stand that it made him all the more enamored with her.

Hermione stopped in her tracks, and she whipped around to face him again. For a moment, Fred worried that he’d said something wrong and ignited her ire, but he mistook determination for anger. She reached up, took his slightly-loosened tie in her slim fingers, and pulled him down to her level, giving him only a couple seconds to get his bearings before she pressed her smirking lips to his. Her lips were soft and smooth against his, and he expected her to disappear as soon as she was within his reach. But she surprised him for one… two… three… precious moments before she pulled back.

Her brown eyes fluttered open, sparkling with something he couldn’t recognize until she smirked. _Mischief._

“Fred, I think I found---” And of course George was the one who ruined the moment, causing Hermione and Fred to jump back from each other. “Oh, sorry, carry on, you two.”

“Actually, I still have to go look for Neville,” Hermione admitted, scratching the back of her neck nervously. Before she went, she tossed another smirk to Fred over her shoulder. "See you later."

Noticing the way Fred brushed his fingers against his lips, George put a hand on his brother’s shoulder as soon as she was out of sight and muttered, “Brother dear, I’m afraid you’re in over your head with this witch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one feels like filler to post, but I feel it's necessary given Hermione's more ruthless actions in the books (see: kidnapping Rita Skeeter in a jar and jinxing boils to form on Marietta Edgecomb's face) for her to ensure that she isn't crossing any lines in their plan. Plus, in a story called "The Kissing Caper," there has to be a myriad of kisses. It's basically the law.
> 
> Also, apologies about this update coming out so long after the last one, but the school year has resumed, and I have a couple of other original fiction stories that I work on in my spare time, so balancing everything is top priority.


	8. Change of Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Hermione realizes her own feelings for Fred, he surprises her, which prompts her to respond in kind.

Hermione kissed Fred. Hermione Granger kissed Fred Weasley! Hermione Jean Granger kissed Frederick Gideon Weasley _on the lips_ and then _teased him about it!_

She was mad! She had to be, hadn’t she? There was no other explanation for her insane behavior because not only had she kissed him, she _liked_ it. She actually liked kissing Fred Weasley, prankster extraordinaire, and not only that, she wanted to do it _again._

She was bonkers--- absolutely, positively--- 

Did she fancy Fred? Was that what this rush of excitement and fear was? Was Ginny right all along that something was there, and it wasn't even just Hermione testing the waters to see if the plan would be believable? 

No! Absolutely not! She'd never fall for Fred - he was too chaotic, too light-hearted, too much for someone as organized, serious, and worrisome as her. If she were going to fall for anyone, she was positive the person in question would be thoughtful, clever, and caring. 

But… hadn't she used those words to describe him before? The thought he put into pranks, his clever execution, the way he cared about her to the point that he could hardly restrain himself from attacking those who hurt her. Plus, it wasn't like she didn't enjoy his company. Even though he could be a bit over-the-top by snatching her books to keep her attention or winding his arms around her shoulders or waist, she didn't mind it at all. In fact, it made her a bit happy that he carried on doing it for the next few days.

Of course, though, wizards thrived on gossip, and as soon as other students started picking up on the changes in their behavior - the way they looked at each other, the fact that they spent evenings in the library together, and their strange ease around each other - rumors started up. On more than one occasion, Lavender and Parvati tried to get Hermione to talk about it, but Hermione just smiled and avoided their questions. Meanwhile, Lee and George couldn't help but tease Fred about how mad he was for Hermione, and Fred didn't really mind.

All in all, the pair slipped into a sort of rhythm together - a nice little period where they were just two people who fancied each other (though they believed they were two people who were _pretending_ to have these feelings).

Until that rhythm changed.

"What the bloody hell have you done to your hair?" asked Hermione as Fred approached the Gryffindor table one morning in early January. 

Without consulting her beforehand, he'd evidently trimmed and tamed the shaggy and unruly scarlet locks that typically framed his face. The difference was pretty evident, seeing as he hadn't really cut his hair since last summer. In addition, she noticed that his tie was perfectly tied around his neck and tucked into his sweater rather than loosely hanging around his neck with the top button of his shirt undone, and his shirt appeared to be tucked into his pants. 

He grinned widely before carefully running his fingers through his hair. Sitting next to her, he said under his breath, "I made everything a bit more believable. After all, Hermione Granger would hardly fancy a guy who doesn't tuck in his shirt."

"Well, I'd be less likely to fancy a guy who inconveniences himself for my sake," she hissed under her breath before looking around. There weren't that many people in yet, seeing as it was the Sunday before classes started up again. Most other students and even a few teachers were sleeping in as much as possible while they could still enjoy it.

He shrugged. "Maybe he thinks you're worth it, or that it really isn't an inconvenience if it would strengthen his chances."

"Strengthen---" Deciding that it was far too early for her to start getting exasperated, she took a deep breath before allowing herself a smirk. Then she reached up and messed his hair up to a boisterous protest from Fred that didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the table, or the rest of the hall. Once she was satisfied, she let her hand drift down to his tie and used it to pull him closer to her level so she could whisper in his ear, "If I ever see a single strand of ginger in place again, I'll make sure you pay."

His lips curled dangerously, and his eyes sparked with daring. "And what'll you do?"

She let go of his tie and took out her wand to twirl it thoughtfully between her fingers. "I think your hair would look absolutely dreadful colored Slytherin green." Pointing it to him in warning, she finished, "Be a shame if it actually happened for a couple of weeks."

He got the message and nodded affirmatively. "But the uniform?"

"Wear your uniform however you like," she dismissed, putting the wand away. "We can just say you're trying to look different from George in a different way. But changing your hair like that... that's not the same."

"Hair is hair," he said simply as he finally started loading his plate with food. "It'll grow back, so it's not a big deal."

He thought she looked entirely too stern over a haircut, but as she explained herself, it made sense. "It is if you and George don't get the same haircut. You two thrive on people not being able to distinguish you. Sacrificing a piece of your relationship with your brother for a girl, whether it's part of our ruse or it's a girl you actually fancy, that's not right." She looked up at him with those big brown eyes of hers, and he couldn't help the way his heart pounded when she firmly but passionately finished, "Don't compromise yourself for anyone."

Her words had such purpose and urgency that he wondered if she'd ever struggled with that in the past, if maybe being called an 'insufferable know-it-all' and every other insult she'd endured had made her seriously question her identity or her looks. But then he knew the answer for sure, didn't he?

Her teeth. 

She'd changed them. Asked for them to be shrunk after that disaster in Snape's class. Fred had thought about it before, but he hadn't really considered how hurt, how torn up she had to have been to go through with it. Wouldn't her parents notice when she went back for holidays? Whenever she mentioned then, she always said that their work involved tending to people's teeth. Maybe she'd already told them about it ahead of time, and this bit of advice from her revealed regret over the decision she made. Or maybe she just believed that changing oneself had to be more of a serious decision, not one made merely on a whim. 

He forced his usual humor into his voice when he crossed a finger over his chest and said, "I solemnly swear that I'll only change the way I look if I want to, and not because I think it would impress you or anyone else."

She took this with a nod and turned back to her breakfast. "Good."

"Although, should the fact that I think it would impress you factor into whether or not I want to change my look..." he trailed off with a sneaky little grin. 

She shot him a look from under her long lashes, and he almost retracted his statement, but she let him off the hook with a smirk, a roll of her eyes, and a shake of her head - the complete trio; she must have been heated about this topic to pull that out. 

Fred decided to change the conversation, resting his head against the heel of his hand while he grinned at her. "So, when are you going to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

As if she'd expected the conversation to turn this way (she probably did, seeing as they'd factored Hogsmeade visits into their original plan), she mirrored his position and replied, "When are you going to ask? Because if I know Fred Weasley, he'd never ask like that. He'd make a show out of it."

"Maybe you should ask me. Female empowerment and all that. Plus, it would shock everyone."

He was right, of course, and she knew it instantly, but she still carried on like they were just playing a little game. 

"How would you like me to ask?" she replied, letting her lips curl. "Flowers and chocolates in hand, getting down on one knee, and dramatically professing my love to you in front of not just all of Hogwarts, but two other schools?"

Seeming to seriously consider this, Fred stroked his chin dramatically as though he still had the beard from Dumbledore's age line. "I think a witch who manages that would be one brave little lioness. One I'd love to go to Hogsmeade with."

So that was what impressed him? Risking making a fool out of oneself in front of everyone for the slim chance that maybe, just maybe, a person returns one's feelings? With a short hum of contemplation, Hermione sat back up after he said this and returned to eating her breakfast. If she went through with something like that, it would fast-track the plan beyond rumors, but didn't they want to be "caught" in their secret relationship, not simply put it on display for everyone to see? Wouldn't this bring the plan closer to its end?

Then again, he _had_ gone through the effort of trying to look the way Hermione Granger might like a boy to look, and it had to count for something that he wanted to impress her. Or, rather, that he wanted to appear like he wanted to impress her. 

So, when she finished eating, she grabbed her things, stood up, and asked before leaving, "Would you like roses, or do you have a different kind of flower in mind?"

A genuine smile stretched across his lips as he swallowed his food. "Surprise me."

Surprise him? Fred Weasley? That was like telling Hermione to sneak up on Crookshanks, a cat most sensitive to noises and impervious to being spooked. Maybe it was even worse than that.

"Because that wouldn't be hard at all," she joked. "See you later."

"See you," he said, waving after her and sighing dreamily despite himself as she left. 

She was going to do it... really, truly going to do it. He could hardly believe it. Merlin's beard, she was - for lack of a better word - _magical._

"Well, someone's in a good mood," George said as he walked up to the table with Angelina and Lee and sat on Fred's free side, "though I'm guessing Granger didn't like the hair."

Fred pointed his spoon at his twin, "You need to cut yours to this length. She doesn't like that we look too different now."

"I was thinking about it anyway after I saw yours. I hate the way my hair is constantly brushing my ears like this. I'm either going to cut my hair or cut off my ears." George dragged a hand back through his hair. "And it's not even long enough to tie up."

Amused, Angelina stood from her place at George's other side and remarked, "Challenge accepted, Weasley."

She pushed her left sleeve up to reveal a few hair ties around her wrist before she took one off and brushed the top half of George's hair back with her fingers. Then she tied it into a neat little ginger ponytail with the back of his hair still loose beneath it.

"It can be tied," she proudly declared, eyeing the small ponytail with joy.

George smiled despite himself as she reclaimed her seat again. "You just love proving me wrong, don't you?"

"Only when you forget that anything is possible. Then, I'll do whatever it takes to remind you."

Fred chuckled at the sight of them together. They really made a lovely pair. He thought the same about Hermione and himself, but he just wondered what it would take to make her see that for real.


	9. Interlude: The Hogwarts Faculty Lounge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An extremely short break from the plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know how short this is, but I REALLY wanted to include this snippet because I wrote it out before most of the story so far and I got attached to the idea of it.

"Did you see Weasley and Granger together at breakfast?" Pomona asked.

Filius raised an eyebrow. "Ron and Hermione? They've always sat together at breakfast. What's so unusual about that?"

"I think she means Fred," Irma replied with a knowing smile. "They've met in the library several times before, and though they keep quiet, you can tell they're doing more than just studying."

Pomona's eyes widened, and she leaned forward, intrigued. "Really? I've been thinking that there was _something_ going on between them."

Minerva gave a stern look over her mug of tea, remarking, "Pomona, haven't we talked about your vested interest in the students' love life before? You haven't changed at all, not even since you were a student yourself." She took a sip of her tea before a thought seemed to hit her, and she chuckled. "Though I must admit, they sort of remind me of James and Lily, in a strange way."


	10. Ask Me, Ask Me, Ask Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gathers the courage and ideas necessary to carry out the task she's set upon herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love feedback on the way Hermione asks Fred to Hogsmeade because I'm not sure if it's too dramatic or just enough.
> 
> Also, the chapter name was inspired by the song "Ask" by The Smiths, which kind of spurred me to finish this up, on top of all the wonderful comments I've been getting this last week! Thank you guys so much for your support of this story. I truly appreciate it, even if I don't respond to every comment.

"I need some advice," Hermione panted as she sat down in front of Ginny, Neville, and Ginny's Ravenclaw friend, Luna Lovegood. The three of them were in the quad, with Neville and Luna playing Gobstones and Ginny refereeing, but the trio all looked up when Hermione approached. 

"Hermione Granger looking for advice and she doesn't go to a teacher?" Neville asked, surprised.

Blushing, Hermione explained, "It's not academic. In fact, I think you three are the best to ask about this - I get a Weasley's perspective, a boy's perspective, and..." Pausing, Hermione searched for the words which would adequately and politely explain what value Luna's thoughts could hold for her. "... An outside-the-box perspective," she finally concluded with a tight smile to Luna.

To be honest, she wasn't sure about asking Ginny's other best friend about this as well, but after she agreed to ask Fred to Hogsmeade, she decided for herself that she was going to do it properly. To do that, she needed to match some level of the Weasley twins' dramatics. And Hermione figured that Fred wasn't just a genius when it came to some of his more creative pranks. He and his brother had to be at least _little_ strange. So, even if she couldn't always see eye-to-eye with the blonde girl in front of her, Hermione valued her input.

Ginny, Neville, and Luna looked between themselves before they nodded in agreement with each other and looked to Hermione to go ahead.

"I'm going to ask Fred to go to Hogsmeade with me - as a sort of date - and I need advice on how to go about it the way he would." Because she was speaking in her normal quick tone, Neville didn't have time to interrupt in his confusion, nor Ginny in her excitement. Hermione hurried on to get to her point, eyes drifting away but filling with the fire of determination. "See, I jokingly suggested to him that I bring flowers and chocolates and declare my love for him in front of all the schools, and he said that would be brave enough to impress him, but I think I can do better. I think I could manage something on the legendary level of a Weasley prank."

Once Hermione said her piece, Ginny burst into excitement and threw her arms around Hermione. "I _knew_ you'd be making a move soon, but this is brilliant! What did you have in mind? When do you want to do it? How can we help?"

Laughing, Hermione let Ginny get her giddiness out before responding, "Well, I do still like the idea of the flowers, and a dramatic entrance has to be involved. I was thinking of Friday at dinner. And I was wondering if the three of you had any ideas that might help add that extra... creative, over-the-top element that's in all their pranks."

Luna's usual dreamy eyes drifted off for a moment before she said under her breath, "I think birds would be lovely. Maybe to bring attention to the 'dramatic entrance' you're planning. Mum and Dad used to conjure birds when I played in the garden when I was little."

Though Hermione knew she wanted Luna's ideas, she hadn't expected the younger girl to kick off with one so sensible. "That's brilliant, Luna." She played with the idea in her head a bit, figuring out all the things she could do with birds. "Do you happen to know what the spell they used was?"

"Avis." The blonde scrunched her nose with distaste while she said, "It makes a dreadfully loud noise, but at least it'll scare the wrackspurts away from everyone's heads long enough that they'll all be paying attention to you."

That reminder gave Hermione enough pause for her to completely overlook the reference to one of the seemingly imaginary creatures mentioned in the Quibbler. "Right. Everyone will certainly see me."

Recognizing the hesitation in his friend's eyes, Neville leaned forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. He steeled himself to reassure her, something he'd never known he'd ever need to do. "Chin up, Hermione. If anyone besides the twins could pull something like that off, it would be you." When she smiled, he grinned back and added, "And to give the male perspective, I think birds sound wicked!"

"But you _are_ a bit of a romantic, Nev," Ginny reminded playfully. "I'm sure you'd love it for a girl to sweep you off your feet with conjured doves and chocolate."

"Anyone in their right mind should love to be swept off their feet with that stuff, regardless of gender," scoffed Neville with so confident a tone that Hermione was genuinely a little surprised before remembering how carefree he'd been when dancing with Ginny a couple of weeks ago. Maybe the Yule Ball had done _everybody_ a bit of good.

Smirking, Ginny nodded. "Right you are." She turned to Hermione. "On the Weasley perspective, I'm still super excited that you're doing this, but I have one caveat to add."

"And that is?" Hermione asked, slightly unnerved by the glint in Ginny's eyes.

"Let me put some makeup on you before you do this."

Normally, if Hermione were in her right mind, her response would have been somewhere between shy refusal and an indignant, though possibly incoherent, retort. After all, she never wore makeup before. She never had the time for it - she barely had time to make her wild hair presentable every morning. But then she remembered how Fred had tucked in his shirt and trimmed his hair to look neater. Plus, she still had the overwhelming power of a Granger's determination coursing through her. She wanted to do this for him, to make it special because even if they were both acting, he sure made her feel special.

So, she said, "Yes."

~

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror with indecision breaking through the confidence she'd been trying to portray. "I don't know. It just doesn't look right on me, Gin."

Four days passed, and this was going to be the evening Hermione went through with it. She'd taught herself the bird-conjuring spell, starting off with small hummingbirds before trying the bird she had in mind. It took a few tries with her wand sputtering out only black feathers before she got it, surprising even herself that she was able to conjure. That was a skill she was sure she wouldn't learn until she started N.E.W.T.s courses, but then again, Malfoy had been able to conjure a snake as only a second-year, so maybe anything was really possible with enough determination and effort.

With the spell, some flowers she gathered on the grounds, and some chocolates that Ginny somehow procured for her (Hermione suspected George was somehow involved), she was prepared. Well, prepared except for the makeup situation.

As Ginny dropped unceremoniously onto her bed, she pouted in a mix of frustration and confusion. "I used the bare minimum of makeup on you, 'Mione! It's not like I broke out all the spells from my dorm-mates' magazines. I don't know what else to do. Maybe it just looks strange with your hair? Do you have any Sleekeazy's potion left?"

"No, I used it all up for the Yule Ball," Hermione admitted, biting her lip. "Plus, I think that would be a bit much anyway. I'm not trying to look Yule Ball fancy."

And it would look a bit hypocritical, she told herself. To tell him not to change himself too drastically while practically relaxing her hair, even if it was the magical and extremely short-term version of relaxing her hair, would be completely incongruous.

She tilted her head at her reflection, curling a strand around her finger in thought. But then it hit her.

"Ginny, you're brilliant!"

The red-head sat up in surprise, remarking, "Really? I mean, yes, I am, but what prompted you to say that?"

But Hermione was already half-way out the door, too focused to stop and explain. With a sigh, Ginny followed her out the door. 

"Fred had better say yes after all this."

~

Fred knew it was going to happen today. After all, the Hogsmeade trip was just the next day, and no one acted the least bit off on any other day of the week. On Friday, though, Ginny had practically skipped to the Gryffindor table when she walked in for dinner. Even George and Angelina had unusually coy smiles, and _that_ was saying something, considering the looks they now normally gave each other.

"Ginny, you wouldn't happen to know where Hermione is, would you?" he asked five minutes into the meal, trying to convince himself that he didn't sound as jittery as he felt. 

Shrugging, his sister said, "Considering that the two of you have been practically joined at the hip for the last several days, I think you're the one who would know the answer to that question best."

Mimicking her beaming expression, he turned his attention back to his food. He knew it would happen. Hermione seemed so sure when she said she'd do it, and she wasn't here now... probably just waiting for the right moment. Fred was fully aware of this.

So, why did he keep looking around nervously? Why was his heart pounding in his chest even harder than it did last summer when he thought his mother might find out about the jokes shop he planned with George? He wasn't worried, was he? No, he couldn't be! He was cocky, sly, and completely incorrigible, so there was no way he had any concern about whether or not Hermione would actually do this.

To reassure himself, he thought about the fire in her eyes whenever she was determined to figure something out. It burned so brightly he was sure it would always warm his heart. 

She would do it, he told himself. And it was sure to be brilliant.

Just as he'd affirmed this to himself, a loud bang broke into the buzz of the Great Hall and threw it into silence. All the heads turned to the entrance, where a crow had flown in with bright yellow flowers in its talons. More bangs followed its entrance, and soon enough, more glided in with flowers. They swooped over the Gryffindor table, dipping to drop the flowers in front of Fred's plate but not on any platters of food. 

He chuckled at the sight, admittedly charmed. Just as he was about to scoop the goldenrods and begonias into a neater pile, George elbowed him in the ribs, turning his attention back to the entrance, where Hermione walked in. Her eyes found Fred while she let go of the package the last five crows were carrying by sharing the weight with strings. They flew in ahead of her, and she appeared nervous for a second. The idea that she was the least bit apprehensive immediately evaporated, however, when she lifted her chin and strode proudly to her table, her gaze still trained on him.

But his attention was forced away when the birds flocked in a V formation, soaring around the Great Hall one last time before exploding in a shower of dark orange fireworks forming the shape of a heart. The entire hall was immediately filled with cheers following a few shocked and confused gasps.

When the fireworks faded, Hermione stood before him. 

He was surprised at the fact that she was wearing makeup. Her lips were glossy, and a soft blush rouged her cheeks with a few flecks of glitter. Her hair was glossy and fell around her shoulders in defined ringlets rather than the usual frizz. It didn't look like she'd used Sleekeazy's again, though, it just looked like her natural hair with a bit of regular Muggle product. 

Taking a deep breath, she fell to one knee and slowly asked, loud enough for the entire hall to hear once they quieted down, "Fred Weasley, will you go with me to Hogsmeade?"

Fred's blue eyes sparkled as he took in the sight of her, and even though Hermione _knew_ what he was going to say, she held her breath in the few seconds between her question and his answer. 

"Yes," he beamed, "yes, of course!"

Ginny immediately squealed with delight from her side of the table, and Luna clapped happily, jubilant that the plan had worked out so well. Neville still looked confused about everything but smiled anyway. Meanwhile, Harry's green eyes were wide, and Ron stubbornly didn't meet her eyes.

And Hermione, though she thought Fred's reaction was just a part of their act, genuinely grinned before getting up to throw her arms around him. She couldn't even help herself from sighing, "He said yes!"

George whistled at the sight of them when the Great Hall burst into its typical buzz, this time mingled with confusion at the idea that two complete opposites were actually interested in each other. Only a few who really knew Fred and Hermione pretty well could tell that they weren't so different after all.


	11. The Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple of things on Harry's mind, and he wants to make sure that Hermione and Fred know where he stands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know at least a couple of people are looking forward to the Hogsmeade date, but I've honestly never written a (good) date scene before, so this chapter is half me procrastinating from possible failure and half a necessity. I hope you like a bit of Harry getting onboard the Fremione ship with the rest of us!
> 
> Also, Lee Jordan is totally going to steal Fred's chocolate when Fred isn't looking, and he's totally going to get a jelly legs jinx when Fred notices. I didn't add it actually happening here, but you can rest assured that it happened between the end of this chapter and the beginning of the next. :)

While Ron and Hermione were arguing over Krum and then Fred, Harry had chosen to stay out of the argument. He didn't want to pick sides and make either of his friends feel like he'd turned on them, so he'd said nothing. To be honest, he saw both sides of the story, and while he knew Ron was clearly in the wrong, Harry also knew why Ron was acting this way: Jealousy and fear. 

It was no well-kept secret that Ron lived a life abound with hand-me-downs. Even any success he might have in future - if Ron were to become Head Boy, gain the position of Quidditch Captain, or earn all of his O.W.L.s - would be compared to that of his older brothers. (Harry guessed that this was also why Fred and George were, well, Fred and George: The two recognized that there was no way they could demonstrate their parents' definition of success without following the steps of their older siblings, and they refused in favor of being free from that pressure and being unique.) Indeed, there were very few things Harry knew of that Ron could call his own, one of them being his friendships. He didn't always express it, but Ron truly appreciated Harry and Hermione because they were best friends with _him._ He mattered to them, and their friendship was unique, forged by multiple near-death experiences.

The idea that someone else could take up Ron's friends' time and keep the Trio apart was hard to come to terms with. Harry knew that. He also knew that Ron wasn't the best at communicating his true feelings, so it wasn't so surprising that when Hermione showed up to the Yule Ball with Viktor, Ron went berserk. Harry wasn't there for the entire conversation, but before he snuck out of the Yule Ball to listen in on Karkaroff's and Snape's conversation, he saw Ron being hostile when Hermione offered to get them drinks with Viktor.

It was even less of a surprise when Ron fumed about Hermione and Fred's apparent romance. He seemed to accept as soon as he saw Hermione and Fred together that she never had feelings for Viktor. With the way she and Fred acted, it was impossible to think they were anything other than absolutely mad for each other whereas Viktor's interest in Hermione was a little one-sided but still accepting of her friendship. So, Ron was even more upset about Hermione's new closeness to Fred because not only was there the possibility that his best friend was drifting away, but she was gravitating toward one of his _brothers._ And Harry figured that must have stung.

But Harry tended to fixate on his problems, especially when his problems always seemed to measure up to potentially ending his life. He had to let the situation play out for a bit without interfering, so that he could focus on preparing for the Second Task of the Tournament. Originally, he'd thought they would sort everything out between themselves. However, by the time he had a free moment to not worry about potentially drowning, Hermione was asking Fred to Hogsmeade in front of all three schools, and Ron was still furious. 

So, Harry felt like he needed to talk to Hermione. Not because he thought Ron was right or he wanted to apologize on Ron's behalf - Ron needed to step up to apologize for himself - but because he hadn't really shown support to Hermione through this so much as stay quiet about it. For that, Harry felt the need to admit fault.

"Hermione!" he called as she was about to head up to her dormitory, stopping short at the bottom of the steps. It was going to be the last chance he'd get to talk to her before the next day, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to get a moment alone with her after Fred got to her. "Can we talk? Just really quickly?"

She turned back with a guarded expression but nodded, heading back down the stairs so she wouldn't block any other girls trying to get to bed early. "Did you ask Neville about the Gillyweed?"

His mind couldn't have been further from the Tournament at that moment, so he stammered, "What? Oh, yeah, that's covered, don't worry. I actually wanted to talk about something else. You and Fred."

"Really?" she mused under her breath, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "What did you want to say?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell Ron he was a git for the way he's been acting, and that he was wrong about Fred and you." Frowning, Harry scratched the back of his head while he tried to figure out the exact words he wanted to say. "Even though you and I haven't always agreed on everything, I care about you a lot, and I'm really glad that you've found someone who makes you happy the way Fred does. I hope Ron will get his head out of his arse soon and tell you the same."

The stoniness in Hermione's expression softened almost as soon as Harry started talking, and by the time he was done, she threw her arms around him. "You're forgiven, and thank you for the support. I'm really glad you came to talk to me. Now, today's nearly perfect!"

Harry squeezed her back before letting her head up to bed. She waved goodbye with a warm grin and headed upstairs. Once she was out of eyesight, he turned towards the boys' dormitory. Now for the second important conversation of the night.

If he was lucky, which he very rarely was, this would turn out well, too. If he wasn't, and he put his foot in his mouth the way Ron occasionally did, he might ruin his good progress with Hermione. 

Still, he needed to say what was on his mind.

Steeling himself for a possible confrontation, he collected his thoughts and knocked on the sixth years' dorm door. He heard nearly identical two voices tell him to come in simultaneously before he opened it and walked in. He was met with the sight of George laying on his stomach on his bed, his head in his hands, while Fred placed a vase of the flowers Hermione had given him on the trunk at the foot of his bed. Lee Jordan was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, and his focus apparently on the package of chocolate on Fred's bed.

"Hey, Harry," Fred said casually, picking up the package and putting it in the drawer by his dresser. Lee's eyes followed it, a curious little smirk wearing at his mouth.

George turned to lay on his back and hang off the end of the bed. "What brings you to our den of iniquity?"

"I wanted to talk to Fred," Harry answered, glancing at the three of them unsurely before adding, "about Hermione."

The older boys glanced between themselves before Fred asked, "Alone?"

"Not really, I guess." Harry walked in, closing the door behind him. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "It's not serious stuff. I mean, I'm not going to warn you that if you hurt her, you'll have to deal with me, because--- well, first, I don't think you're going to do that, second, you're way older than me and probably better than me at magic, and third, I would probably have to get in line behind Ginny."

"And me," George added, his face turning pink from being upside down despite him making no move to rectify his position, "and probably Angelina. Granger's one of the best things in this man's life, and if he screws it up, we'll all make sure he regrets it."

Harry allowed himself a soft smile at that before he turned his attention back to Fred. The older twin quirked an eyebrow at him. 

"So, what _do_ you want to say?" asked Fred.

Still smiling, Harry admitted, "You two look pretty good together. Have fun with her tomorrow, and every day after that for as long as this lasts. You both deserve it."

Fred's blue eyes sparkled with affection before he grinned and dramatically cried, "Aw, ickle Potter cares about us!" He stood and practically swept Harry up in a bone-crushing hug, causing Harry to mentally curse that Beater's strength of his.

When he was finally free and could breathe, Harry wheezed, "Of course I care. Hermione's the closest thing I have to a sister, and you and George are pretty damn near older brothers to me." Speaking of... "By the way, George, if you make any missteps with Angelina, I'll be breaking out a few jinxes. After Angie, Katie, Alicia, and Fred, of course."

The now red-faced twin nodded in acceptance before pushing himself up to sit somewhat more like a human being would. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

Throwing an arm around Harry's shoulder, Fred remarked, "Don't worry, Georgie and I will be such upstanding boyfriends that by the time you get a girlfriend, she'll wonder why you aren't as amazing as we are."

"Gee, thanks," Harry said drily, smiling despite himself. 

Now, if only he could get Ron to cool down about the whole situation.


End file.
